


Share your dreams with me

by CapriciousCrab



Series: dream, baby, dream [4]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dreams, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Plans For The Future, References to Depression, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousCrab/pseuds/CapriciousCrab
Summary: Phil gives Dan a special gift, something to hold onto during the darker days.Excerpt-He sits on the edge of the bed now, running his fingers over the small wooden box in his lap. The natural wood gleams in the sunlight, it's grain and knots visible in all their glory. Phil had been delighted by it, insisting that these imperfections told the tree's story. He's always been a sentimental fool, and god knows he's turned Dan into one too.





	Share your dreams with me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Dani ♥

 

_He's sitting at his desk reading over yet another work proposal when a sense of wrongness sweeps over him. He raises his head, a frown drawing the corners of his mouth down as he looks around. He's not sure what he's looking for, he just knows something isn't right. He pushes away from the desk and stands, heading toward the rain-dotted window. He looks without seeing as the busy London street bustles beneath him. His heart is thumping now, a pounding rhythm that speaks of fear and an unnamed dread._

 

_He blinks, and he's standing in the middle of an empty flat. It's familiar yet not, the curved walls and floor to ceiling windows whispering to him to remember. He walks through the empty rooms looking, searching, hoping to find what's missing. He enters the master bedroom, the air cold and stale from disuse, and stops in the middle of the room. He not sure how he knows this place but he remembers it from happier times. Times when there was another sharing this space with him, his black hair pushed back as he laughed at him. They'd loved each other here, in this room and in others. Sweaty bodies, hungry mouths, hands grabbing and pulling each other closer, always closer._

 

_He turns, sensing someone at the corner of his eye, yet the room is as deserted as before. He hears the remains of long-dead conversations, accusations and insults thrown at this man he'd loved. This man he can't recall. The ghost of an argument long dead, the slam of the front door, and suddenly he remembers._

 

“ _Phil!”_

 

 

Phil's name is on his lips when he jolts awake from his dream. Dan's eyes fly open as he jackknifes up from his nap. His curls are damp from perspiration, and he can feel a bead of sweat slide down his spine, making him shiver. He looks around the room, terrified it will be devoid of what he needs to see. But he can see Phil's mirror, the straightener left on the floor in front of it. Phil's shoes mingle with his on the shoe rack, and his glasses are set on the bedside table, waiting for their owner's return.

 

Dan lets out the breath he's been holding and it comes out a bit closer to a sob then he'd like. He concentrates on steadying his breathing and settling his emotions, after all, he's had these dreams before. Dreams of being left behind, dreams where he'd become the lawyer he never wanted to be. The most painful dreams are the one where he'd never met Phil at all, in which he lived the life everyone had expected him to live. Those hurt the most.

 

He climbs out of bed and walks over to the closet, reaching up to the shelf inside. His hands run along the ledge for one of the most precious items Phil has ever given him. He hides it here, away from prying eyes and searching glances. This is theirs, his and Phil's, and he's extremely protective of it. His fingers bump against the corner of a box and he sighs in relief as he pulls it from the closet.

 

He sits on the edge of the bed now, running his fingers over the small wooden box in his lap. The natural wood gleams in the sunlight, it's grain and knots visible in all their glory. Phil had been delighted by it, insisting that these imperfections told the tree's story. He's always been a sentimental fool, and god knows he's turned Dan into one too.

 

Phil had commissioned an artist to make this box years ago. They'd been young and broke at the time, struggling to make YouTube work, but he'd still spent the little money he'd had saved. The pressure of university had been taking a toll on Dan, and he had spent a great deal of time alternately crying or feeling numb. They didn't have a name then for the reason he would stay in bed for days or why he would agonize over the little things, but Phil was always there trying to pick up whatever pieces he could.

 

It was during one of those difficult times that Phil had the box made. Dan had been in bed, drifting through the fog in his mind when Phil had climbed in with him. Irritated at being jostled and unable to cope with all the emotions swirling inside him, Dan had gotten angry and lashed out with a verbal attack that was sharp and vicious. He can still recall the flash of hurt in Phil's eyes before he blanked it, offering him that gentle smile he's always had.

 

**

 

“Dan, I have something for you. Can you sit up please?” He waited while Dan huffed in irritation, watching as Dan pushed himself up against the headboard.

 

“Alright, I'm up. What is it?”

 

Phil placed a box in Dan's lap. It was a pretty box, made of natural wood and obviously handcrafted. There was a carving of a tree on the lid, giving the impression of great height and width. It was lovely, but Dan couldn't figure out what the box was for.

 

As if sensing the unasked question, Phil turned to him and said, “It's a wish box. You write down your wishes and dreams, the things you want most to happen in your life, and you put them in the box. As time goes by and your dreams come true, you can take them out and look at all the things you've accomplished.”

 

As he continued talking, he tipped his head onto Dan's shoulder. “I chose cherry wood because the cherry tree is a symbol of love and affection. And I never want you to forget how much I love you.” A kiss is pressed now to his shoulder, soft and sweet.“The tree on the top is a Sequoia, an emblem for attaining your dreams and reaching for the stars. Never stop reaching, Dan.”

 

Dan eyes filled with tears as he rested his head on top of Phil's. They took comfort in each other, breathing together in the quiet room. He kept one hand on the box, running his fingertips over the carving while taking Phil's hand in the other. He thinks for the millionth time just how lucky he is in Phil, this man who not only tolerated his wild mood swings and unpredictable behavior but understood them.

 

He felt Phil shift and raised his head to look into his face. His blue eyes are bright, and he's smiling, his lips turned up in a smile that only Dan gets to see. Dan lowered his head and kissed that smile, rejoicing in the fact that he can, and suddenly he knows exactly what the first dream for his wish box is going to be.

 

**

 

He'd filled that box with various dreams over the years. Some had been wild and outlandish, but Phil made him include those too, refusing to ever let Dan limit himself. So there had been a few of what he thought would be typical fantasy dreams-become famous, have millions of pounds, travel the world. And to his endless shock, they'd actually come true. He had cried when he removed them from his box, in gratitude and in disbelief, while Phil offered him a glass of fizzy wine and a handful of tissues. They had giggled through their champagne before breaking into wild laughter, dancing around their flat in hysterical joy.

 

Other dreams had been more personal. There was the dream of moving to London together. Dreams of a world tour that was so successful they were embarking on a second tour soon. The dream of being known outside of YouTube was fulfilled when they became published authors not just once, but twice.

 

Darker dreams, too, went inside. Hopes of getting a handle on his depression, of finding a therapist who would understand all that he was. Dreams of letting go of the memories of being bullied, hoping to make a difference to someone someday. Of connecting with his family better. All these and more had been realized and so they made their way out of the box in their own time.

 

Caught up memories, he didn't hear Phil enter the room behind him. It's not until he sits on the bed next to him that Dan looks up, into the same blue eyes he's been captivated by since the first time he's seen them on his video screen. There are smile lines now at the corners of the eyes, a silent testimony to the good times they've had, and Dan is once again swept with that familiar feeling of privilege and joy he gets when thinking about their life together.

 

“I thought you were napping?” He eyes the box in Dan's lap before looking back to him, a little frown of concern hitching around his brows. He runs his hand up and down his arm, a silent gesture of comfort. “Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah. Just had a weird dream, that's all”

 

“One of those dreams?”

 

Dan smiles at that, once again marveling at how well Phil knows him. “Yeah, one of those. And of course, the first thing I did was went for my comfort object.” He can joke about this with Phil because, well, it's Phil. He gets Dan more than any other person in his world ever will.

 

“Ah, well, it could be worse. Could be a dummy that you reach for.” He's laughing at him now, secure in the knowledge that it will be received with the warmth Phil intends to relay. “That would go well with your Daddy kink, yeah?”

 

“Phil! God, you disgust me” But he's laughing too, bumping his shoulder into Phil's. “I don't have a Daddy kink, you fucking perv.”

 

Phil nudges him back, pressing his thigh against Dan's as he cozies up a bit more. “So what do you have left in the box?” He never peeks in the box, always waiting for Dan to share the things he's added. “What could possibly be left in there that you haven't achieved, hmm?”

 

Dan flips up the lid to reveal the interior and the handful of slips of paper inside. Despite being some of his oldest dreams they're pristine, the paper is as crisp and ink as vibrant as the day he wrote them. He's never touched these pieces of paper, afraid of jinxing himself out of the things he wants most, but he picks them up now and hands them to Phil. He watches as Phil's eyes slide over Dan's handwriting, smiling when Phil smiles.

 

These are the dreams Dan's clung to on some of his bleakest days, days when he wondered if he could possibly endure one more day of privacy invasions, of hiding the things that meant the most to him. Buying a forever home, getting married, adopting a dog followed by children; these were the things his heart longed for. And when Phil looks up from those tiny pieces of paper, he can see the same longing written on Phil's face.

 

Phil reached his hand out to place them back inside when he spotted a lone piece of paper taped inside the bottom of the box. “What's that?”

 

“It's my first wish.” A tender smile graced Dan's lips, his cheeks lightly flushed. “The one I put in the day you gave me the box.”

 

“Is it a secret?”

 

Dan pulls the paper free from the tape and holds it up, the four words clearly visible.

 

**Love each other forever**

 

And just like that day years ago, Phil tips his head to Dan's shoulder and presses a kiss there before whispering the word Dan never gets tired of hearing.

 

“Forever.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I appreciate any comments that are left. I may not always reply to them, I'm a little anxious like that, but I do read them.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr, stop by and say hello!  
> capriciouscrab.tumblr.com


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